


What It Means To Lose Control

by PeachyPerfect (tomssweetheart)



Series: Take My Stress Away [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, BDSM, Bondage, Boys In Love, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hint of Consensual Non-Consent, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Size Difference, Smut, Stress Relief, Touching, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomssweetheart/pseuds/PeachyPerfect
Summary: Armie was very experienced in the world of BDSM and wasn’t shy about it, either. The first time he had suggested the idea to Timmy, the boy had been slightly apprehensive, which was completely natural. But then Armie had shown him that giving up control to someone else actually felt quite liberating. It had felt like he was gaining control by giving it up and Timmy had claimed that he had never felt better, afterwards.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Take My Stress Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991038
Comments: 64
Kudos: 146





	What It Means To Lose Control

**Author's Note:**

> My mind just won't get out of the gutter, honestly. The lovely **JoliePrudence** did my beta. Because she's just that sweet and supportive. We love her like that. Take a look at her work, she's an amazing writer! ♥

[ ](https://ibb.co/6bNs5vc)

“Jesus fucking… Mother of… Lord, have mercy… Fuck, fuck, fuck my life.”

Armie looked up from the TV and turned to Timmy, who sauntered through the front door with his eyebrows drawn and his hands wildly tugging on the straps of his backpack, trying to take it off. Once it fell to the floor, he shrugged off his jacket, angrily threw it over the back of a barstool and toed off his shoes, muttering curses to himself. He wiped a few curls off his forehead and went to grab a drink from the fridge, screwing the cap off and taking a few big gulps.

“Hey,” Armie said, pausing the series he was watching. His voice caused Timmy to startle from his thoughts and he clumsily dropped his water bottle, the clear liquid spilling all over the vinyl kitchen tiles.

“Goddamnit, Armie!” Timmy shrieked, sinking to his knees to pick up the bottle. He blindly grabbed the kitchen towel from where it was folded over the handle of the oven and dropped it to the floor, the fabric absorbing the spilled water.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Armie said, getting up to help Timmy clean up the mess. “Tim, let me.” He took the towel from Timmy’s hands and dried the floor, before he carelessly threw the now soaked fabric into the empty sink. Timmy stood at the counter, looking helpless and lost.

“I can’t do anything right,” he said, balling his hands into fists. Armie frowned.

“I could tell you that that’s not true, but I feel like that would only cause you to explode on me.” He smiled cautiously and Timmy, as expected, immediately opened his mouth to protest.

“You don’t even fucking know what I’m talking about!”

“I don’t, so why don’t you tell me?” Armie suggested, gently steering Timmy away from the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of water from the fridge on his way.

“As if telling you is gonna turn me into a success all of a sudden,” Timmy grumbled and Armie flicked his earlobe in response. “Ow, asshole! What the fuck did you do that for?” The boy rubbed his ear and scowled at Armie, but the older man merely grinned.

“Stop being a whiny brat and tell me what’s got your nipples in a twist,” he said, pushing Timmy to sit down on the couch and handing him his drink.

“Just my fucking boss,” Timmy groaned, clearly too upset to put up much of a fight. His shoulders were tense and his brows seemed to have a permanent frown in between them. His legs were restless and so were his hands, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

Armie studied his body language for a moment and realized that Timmy might indeed need more than to just get his worries off his chest.

  


Armie had met Timmy a little over two years ago, when he had been searching for a roommate. He had put an advertisement out in the local paper and this angelic, insecure looking boy had showed up on his doorstep, asking to see the place. He had been so stunned by his appearance that he had simply stepped aside and welcomed him in, something he rarely did with strangers. Aside from the fact that the boy had seemed harmless, there had also been a strange crackle in the air as soon as their eyes met that made Armie decide that he had to at least talk to him, just for a few minutes. 

A short conversation and a quick tour of the apartment later, Armie knew that this boy - whom he now knew was named Timothée - was destined to be his roommate. There was something about him that made Armie feel like they had found each other at the right time, but he hadn’t quite been able to put his finger on why that was.

It had taken him a little over a year to finally find out what they could mean for each other.

Even though there had been an instant attraction between them, neither of them had ever acknowledged it. However, they had been honest about pretty much everything else and became the closest of friends within the first couple of months. There wasn’t a secret between them - not one thing that Armie didn’t know about Timmy and vice versa - and that was how Armie had discovered that Timmy needed for someone to take the reins every now and then. The boy could get extremely pent up with daily struggles and had admitted more than once that it felt like he was afraid of buckling under the pressure to stay in control.

Which was why a world of possibilities had opened up to him when Armie had introduced him to bondage ropes and blindfolds.

Armie was very experienced in the world of BDSM and wasn’t shy about it, either. The first time he had suggested the idea to Timmy, the boy had been slightly apprehensive, which was completely natural. But then Armie had shown him that giving up control to someone else actually felt quite liberating. It had felt like he was gaining control by giving it up and Timmy had claimed that he had never felt better, afterwards.

It hadn’t started as anything sexual. Armie had simply wrapped him up in beautifully intricate knots, taking away his ability to move his arms, so that he couldn’t fidget. He had also slipped a silk scarf over his eyes, blocking his view and heightening all of his other senses. Timmy had felt uncomfortable at first, maybe even a little anxious, but Armie had talked him through it; had told him to focus on the sounds around him and to push every exhale into his lower stomach. He had lightly played with Timmy’s curls and whispered soothing words into his ear, until he visibly relaxed. It had taken him a while, but eventually Timmy could feel his toes tingle and his muscles relax. His breathing had evened out and a layer of goosebumps had formed all over his body, making his skin feel extra sensitive under the restraint of the ropes.

It was the first time Timmy had been able to feel completely at ease since he had started working full-time and he had thanked Armie by cooking him his favorite meals for an entire week straight.

With this discovery came great trust and Armie was more than happy to help Timmy out when he needed it. Sometimes the boy would come to him and stumble over his words, trying to ask for what he wanted, and sometimes Armie would sense his mood and know that it was time. He couldn’t remember how many times they had played a scene before Timmy finally discovered that it could be sexually pleasurable to surrender to someone else, but he remembered feeling relieved when it happened. In a way, it confirmed for the older man that what he felt wasn’t foolish. There was a mutual spark and it was enough for Armie to hold on to, even though he wouldn’t act on it. They were roommates and friends - he couldn’t get confused.

They hadn’t done anything different from what they usually did when Timmy asked for Armie to ‘take his stress away’, but Armie remembered pulling the ropes a little tighter around Timmy’s torso and the answering gasp of his name that he had gotten in return. He also remembered Timmy’s cock, hard and wet inside his grey boxer briefs. He remembered suddenly feeling bold enough to lightly run his hands over Timmy’s skin. Remembered holding the boy, pulling him against his chest and touching him all over, until he shuddered in his arms and coated the inside of his underwear with a thick, creamy load of cum - his cock completely untouched.

Afterwards, Armie had felt the sudden urge to retreat to his room and jerk himself silly at the memory of Timmy, beautifully submissive Timmy, soaking through his underwear.

Following that experience, Armie had learned everything there was to learn about Timmy’s sexual preferences. He had found out that Timmy was quite the exhibitionist and got off on the idea of people being able to see him, to watch him crumble under Armie’s capable hands. Timmy also liked dirty talk, nipple play and light pain. A fantastic combination, if you asked Armie. If Timmy had flaws, Armie had yet to discover them, but he was absolutely certain that it wouldn’t make a difference. If there would ever come a day when Timmy would return his feelings, he would worship the boy at his feet, but until then he was going to keep his mouth shut and ‘take Timmy’s stress away’. 

  


“What happened with your boss?”

Armie waited patiently for Timmy to gather his thoughts and when he did, the words seemed to tumble out of his mouth on their own.

“She was such a bitch to me, Armie! She pulled me into her office during lunch, which is super rude, because we have lunch with the kids at the table for a reason. They get very fidgety when we do other stuff while they eat. Lunch is a sacred thing for them, you know? So, she took me away from them and then proceeded to tell me that I don’t engage enough, that I don’t organize enough activities for me to seem productive and that I make too much small talk with the parents when they come to pick up their kids. Which is insane! Do you know how important that is? To make them feel like their kids are safe with you? God, I don’t fucking understand what her problem is. So, now she gave me this list of activities that still need to be done before the end of the year and she wants me to organize at least five of them. It is the fucking 3rd of December! How am I going to pull that off without driving myself completely insane? And on top of that, she wants me to do observations on fifteen kids and she wants me to get them back to her by Friday next week. I think I’m going to pull my own hair out, I’m not even kidding, Armie.”

“Okay, okay,” Armie hushed him quickly, scooting closer on the couch and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Calm do-,”

“Don’t even think of telling me to calm down, I swear to God,” Timmy huffed, sagging into the couch cushions. He folded his arms across his chest, his eyebrows furrowing into an angry scowl, and blew at the single curl that fell across his forehead.

“Do you need me to calm you down with my hands, instead of my words? Because I can do that, Timmy.” Armie lowered his voice on purpose and watched a clearly visible shiver run down Timmy’s spine. The frown between his brows disappeared, but his eyes stayed on the floor between his feet. His cheeks flushed and Armie could feel the sudden tension between them, as if the heat had been cranked up a notch. He tucked the persistent curl behind Timmy’s ear and smiled patiently. “You’re my friend, I hate seeing you so frustrated,” he said quietly, absolutely appalled by the word ‘friend’, but what else was he going to call him? It’s not like they were anything more than that. Hell, they weren’t even friends with benefits, considering the benefits weren’t mutual. If only Timmy knew how much he cared…

“I just… Uhg. Loser,” Timmy whispered. “Can’t even figure out my own shit.”

Armie flicked his ear again and raised an eyebrow when Timmy hissed and gaped at him in surprise. “Don’t ever call yourself a loser again, do you hear me? You work extremely hard and you do everything for those kids, even if it will keep you up until well into the night. You are _not_ a loser.”

“Okay, Jesus,” Timmy murmured, rubbing at the shell of his ear.

“I made dinner,” Armie said, dismissing the subject for now, but not before he offered: “Let’s go eat, so you can shower and relax. I’ll help you figure out a plan later.”

“Yeah, okay,” Timmy sighed. His shoulders slumped when he got up from the couch and he looked exhausted, almost like he was on the verge of crying. He was halfway on his way to the kitchen, when he turned back to the couch and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Armz,” he said, before he bit the corner of his lip and averted his eyes. Armie smiled, but his chest tightened and he hated it. He ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, before he stood up and went to join Timmy in the kitchen, silently vowing to himself to put his own emotions away and make tonight all about his best friend.

* * *

Armie stood outside the bathroom, the door closed between him and the person he was waiting for. His left hand was wrapped around a black, silky piece of fabric and his right was holding on to a reasonable length of soft, equally black, rope. He patiently leaned back against the wall beside the door, trying to control the mess in his stomach. The mess that was a bunch of unwanted butterflies and complicated feelings. The shower had been turned off minutes ago, he had even heard Timmy use his electric toothbrush, so he knew the boy would be emerging from the bathroom any moment now.

It was a tricky thing, catching Timmy off guard. His friend despised surprises, would probably protest and struggle; try to break loose of Armie’s grip, but the older man knew him better than anyone. Timmy needed to let go tonight and Armie was able to give him that and more.

As soon as the bathroom door opened and Timmy stepped into the hallway - only dressed in a skimpy little pair of bright green boxer briefs - Armie swung the rope over his shoulder to free his hand and grabbed both of Timmy’s wrists, folding them behind his back.

“What- Armie! Let me go!”

“I don’t think you want me to,” Armie whispered into Timmy’s ear, as he slowly walked him back into the living room. The boy seemed extra stubborn tonight, as he struggled in his grip, trying to yank his arms free. He twisted and turned, but Armie easily overpowered him and it was strangely satisfying.

The living room was quiet, but brightly lit; not at all like it normally was when they planned on watching a movie or just hanging out. They usually dimmed the lights and closed the curtains, shutting the world out from having a peek inside their safe little bubble. However, tonight Armie had flicked all the lights on, thrown the curtains wide open - exposing the floor to ceiling windows - and turned off the TV.

“Goddamnit, Armie,” Timmy complained, still trying to free his wrists from the tight grip of Armie’s fingers. It was the flush on his neck, slowly spreading out over the rest of his torso and up to his face, that convinced Armie he wasn’t trying to get away; not really. He did try to make himself sound very convincing when he started pleading for Armie to “Please, Jesus, please Armie, let go. You’re hurting me.”

“Then don’t fight,” Armie whispered against the side of his face, nosing into his damp curls. Timmy smelled of shampoo, toothpaste and his special face wash and it made Armie’s head a little fuzzy.

“Where are we-... Armie, what are you gonna do?” Timmy whined, when Armie steered him in front of the large window and gently pulled his arms down, forcing him to his knees.

“I think you know what we’re gonna do,” the older man said, before he finally let go of Timmy’s arms and ran his hands up over his shoulders, his neck, the side of his face - the blindfold still in his left hand. When Timmy noticed the black silk, he swallowed visibly and turned his head to look at Armie.

The boy’s eyes were a deep, golden-green color and sparkled with something Armie recognized, but couldn’t quite place, even after all this time. What he was able to take from them, was that his best friend was willing to surrender and obey with the next small touch. So, Armie touched the back of his head, stroked a finger down his nape and watched Timmy turn his head back to face the window and then lower his eyes. He settled on his knees, his ass resting against his heels and his hands now on top of his thighs. His breathing evened out, his spine straightened and Armie smiled affectionately. _Beautiful._

“Do you need your safe word, Timmy?” he asked, softly toying with the boy’s curls. He kept a close look on Timmy’s features, watching his lips move as he rolled them over his teeth and then parted them to whisper a confident ‘no’. Armie nodded and ran a finger over the shell of Timmy’s ear, the one he had flicked earlier, twice. “I want you to remember that it’s there for you to use at any given point tonight. Will you remember that?”

“Yes,” Timmy answered. His lips pulled to the side as he bit the inside of his cheek and Armie wanted to touch them with his finger, his tumb. His own lips. _His cock._

No.

He knelt on the floor behind Timmy and slipped the silky blindfold over his eyes, tying it at the back of his head. Timmy took a shuddery breath and exhaled it slowly, but he chose to stay quiet. Knowing that his earlier protests had been feigned ones, Armie didn’t expect Timmy to put a stop to this now, but he still felt the need to make sure Timmy wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Hands, please,” he told Timmy softly and his friend immediately obeyed, moving his hands behind his back. He grabbed onto his own elbows and straightened his back again, shifting his knees a little further apart to get in position. The muscles in his back worked beneath his skin and Armie couldn’t wait to cover them with knots and admire the result.

“That’s perfect, Timmy,” he whispered, stroking the boy’s upper arms in reassurance. “I’m going to use the rope now, okay? Are you good?” Timmy tilted his head up, as if to take a deep breath, and then nodded. Armie smiled affectionately.

He took the rope from his shoulder and untangled it. Then, he started wrapping the entire length in various angles around Timmy’s torso and arms, tying it with intricate knots that ran all the way down his spine, while muttering “Of course you’re good. You’re so good. Such a good boy for me, always nice and still. So perfectly submissive.”

When he tied the ends together into the last knot - leaving a small loop that he could pull on if Timmy wanted him to loosen his bindings - he sat back and looked at his handy work. Timmy’s hands had gone slack, no longer holding onto his elbows, but it didn’t matter, because the rope kept them perfectly in place. The boy was shaking a little, but his breathing was even and he had dropped his chin to his chest, folding in on himself a little. Armie scooted closer and spread his thighs so that his knees were on either side of Timmy’s hips.

“Here,” he softly spoke against the side of Timmy’s head. “Lean back and relax.” He brought his hands up and gently guided his friend back against his chest with his hands on his shoulders. Timmy went willingly and sighed in relief when his head hit Armie’s shoulder.

The older man glanced down Timmy’s torso and let his eyes follow the trail of the black rope. It crossed Timmy’s chest in a zig-zag pattern and was pulled together by three simple knots: one in the dimple between his collar bones, one between his nipples - pressing tightly against his chest bone - and one between his ribs, where his tummy started. Armie could already see the skin beneath them turning red and he couldn’t wait to run his fingers over the imprints.

He let his eyes travel down a little lower and took in the sight of Timmy’s straining erection, covered by the bright green fabric of his underwear. The fact that this aroused him wasn’t unusual anymore, but it did surprise Armie that it had happened so quickly. He wanted to frown, to say something, maybe ask if Timmy was still feeling okay, but decided not to. Decided that Timmy was able to use his safe word if something was wrong, or if he was feeling off.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he told the boy, bringing his hands around his waist to lightly trail the tips of his fingers over the edges where the rope met his skin. “That’s it, that’s good,” he whispered, when Timmy did as he was told. “Two more times, Timmy. Deep breaths.”

Timmy’s chest rose with every inhale and Armie followed the movement with his eyes, trying not to linger too long on his friend’s rosy nipples, but he couldn’t help himself. Ever since they had gotten comfortable enough around each other to walk shirtless around the apartment, even before they had started doing scenes together, Armie had noticed the way they stood out against Timmy’s pale skin. The way they would perk up and get even smaller when a slight breeze coming from an open window would hit Timmy’s skin. He had never really noticed nipples before, had always been more of an ass-man, but just like everything about Timmy, his nipples were perfect. 

“You’re doing so well, Timmy. You know that, right?” Armie nuzzled his nose behind Timmy’s ear and quietly took in the boy’s freshly showered scent, trying not to dwell on how it seemed to touch him deep in his core. “You’re always so good for me.”

“Hmm,” Timmy moaned, but Armie shushed him, pressing his lips against his ear.

“It’s okay, just relax. I’ve got you, Timmy,” he said, letting his fingers follow the pattern of the rope. “Just breathe for me, I know you can do it so easily. We’ve been practicing a lot, haven’t we? You’re so good for me now, Timmy. So soft under my touch.”

The shiver that ran up and down the boy’s spine was so violent that Armie could feel it in his chest, even with the knots between them, and he knew it was time to put his hands to work. He gently lay his palms flat against Timmy’s sides and slid them up and down between the ropes. The boy was so small in his arms, his waist so tiny he could almost touch the tips of his fingers together.

“My hands look so big on your beautiful body, Timmy,” Armie softly whispered into the boy's ear, earning a shudder in return. The slightest sound of appreciation bubbled up from Timmy’s throat, but it stayed behind closed lips and was barely audible. “I’m going to make you watch, one day. Going to make you watch how I touch you and make you feel so good. You deserve to feel as good as you look, Tim. And God, you look good. I almost can’t stop loo-...” Armie swallowed, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I can’t stop looking at you,” he said anyway. “I bet no one would be able to resist looking at you. In fact,” he paused shortly and nuzzled behind the boy’s ear. “People could be watching you right now.”

“Fuck,” his friend panted, spreading his thighs a little more in response.

Armie smiled. “The curtains are open, the lights are on… They could look into our apartment right now and watch how you’re on your knees here in complete surrender to me. They’d watch how you shake in my arms, how the ropes mark you up so beautifully… And if they keep watching you long enough, they’ll eventually see how you come completely untouched, soaking your cute little boxers.” Timmy’s body spasmed and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. Armie smiled affectionately. His friend was such an exhibitionist, so hot for the thought of people being able to see how pliant he is under someone else’s touch. “Because that’s what’s going to happen, right Timmy?” he urged, digging his fingers into the boy’s skin.

“Armie,” Timmy moaned, squirming in his restraints. Armie could feel Timmy’s fingers flex where they were pressed up against his abdominal muscles. They were warm - scorching even - their heat soaking right through the fabric of his T-shirt.

“You can let it go. I promise, I’ll keep holding you. I don’t want you to think of anything, except how your skin feels. Does it hurt?” Armie slipped his fingers over the ropes beneath Timmy’s nipples. His friend keened quietly and then nodded, before he shook his head and nodded again. Even with the blindfold covering most of his facial expressions, Armie could see that he was confused by what he was feeling, but the plush bottom lip pressed firmly between his teeth told him that what he was feeling was mostly arousal. He was still trying to hold back.

“Do you need me to touch your little nipples, Timmy? Would that make you feel better? Is that what it takes for you to give it to me?” Armie slowly circled his areolas and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “Is that it?” he asked again and Timmy nodded furiously. He was quivering all over, the curls at the nape of his neck still damp from the shower and now with perspiration. When Armie glanced down his body again, he could see that a large wet spot had formed on the front of Timmy’s underwear and he smiled proudly. So close…

Bringing his left hand between their bodies, he took a hold of the knot in the middle of Timmy’s spine and tugged on it, tightening the ropes around his friend’s torso. The boy sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, before he exhaled with a shudder. Armie spread the fingers of his right hand, so that he was able to reach both of Timmy’s nipples - his thumb on the left one and his middle finger on the right one. He flicked them gently until Timmy released a pleading little groan, and then gave slight pressure.

Timmy’s body went rigid in his arms, shaking uncontrollably. His fingers tightened in Armie’s shirt, his head lolled all the way back onto his shoulder and he panted his pleasure in between desperate gasps for air.

“Armie, Armie, Armie,” he chanted, before his body went slack and he moaned loudly. Armie held him and whispered sweet little nothings in his ear, until he relaxed entirely, his body only jolting when it was being wrecked by an aftershock. The wooden floor between his thighs was wet with cum, where it had spurted through the barrier of his underwear. It was a sight to behold, almost felt like an accomplishment. Was he the only one who could make Timmy lose control like this?

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered lovingly, holding Timmy’s tied upper body close to his. “You did so well, you’re so good. Such a good boy for me, Timmy.”

“I’m-”

“Ssh, relax. Give yourself a minute. I’ll get you out of this soon,” he soothed, tugging on the rope again. Timmy hissed, overly sensitive all over now that he was post orgasm. Armie gently rocked him back and forth and waited for him to sag in his grip, before he pressed a final kiss to the side of his head and sat back a little to pull on the loop he had left at the last knot. The rope snapped loose and he carefully undid all the knots and unwrapped the length from Timmy’s body.

As soon as he dropped the rope to the floor, his hands were on Timmy again, tracing the red welts and imprints with warm fingers, alternating them with flat palms. Tim whimpered and squirmed, but pressed his chest up into the touch, loving the electric current that seemed to travel from his skin to Armie’s hands and back. It was slightly painful, but even more pleasurable and he finally and visibly allowed himself to slip into full relaxation.

Armie smiled in satisfaction. “Good boy.”

Twenty minutes later, Timmy was situated on the couch under a warm blanket, the blindfold now gone and his curls tucked behind his ears. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes glazed over with something Armie could only describe as complete and utter _zen._ He had cleaned the floor, wincing at his own painfully hard erection - which was still pressed up against the zipper of his jeans - and made sure Timmy drank some water and sucked on a piece of candy.

He ruffled his friend’s hair and tucked the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders. “Are you gonna be alright?”

“Of course,” Timmy said with a smile, nestling himself into the couch cushions. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, ehm,” Armie scratched the back of his neck and grimaced. “Just… to my room. I need to get some stuff done.”

Timmy watched him, his eyes big and innocent, before he blinked and pushed the blanket down a little. He patted the free seat next to him. “Get your stuff done here,” he suggested.

“Tim,” Armie began to protest, but Timmy shook his head and bit his lip.

“I know what _stuff_ you need to get done. I wanna watch,” he said.

“Fuck, I…” Armie shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please?” Timmy tried again, folding his fist underneath his chin. “You watch me when we do this. It’s only fair.”

Armie bit his lip and hesitated for a moment longer, but Timmy was right. He had watched Timmy come so many times he’d lost count and the boy was obviously on to him. Then again, maybe he hadn’t been that secretive about the fact that he had to masturbate himself into a coma afterwards.

“Fine,” he agreed, shuffling towards the couch. “But it won’t take long,” he admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed about it. He sat down on the couch and started fiddling with the buttons on his jeans, undoing the fly.

“That’s okay,” Timmy smiled sweetly. “I just want to re-... Oh, fuck,” he gasped when Armie pulled his rock hard cock out from the slit of his boxers. He swallowed thickly and unconsciously scooted a little closer. “Return the favor. In some way. God, Armie.”

Armie merely nodded and wrapped his fingers around his cock, forming a tight fist, before he started pumping himself. His balls were already drawn up between his thighs, so full and ready to burst at any moment. He bucked his hips up into his fist, completely unaware of Timmy’s smoldering eyes on him, renewed arousal burning beneath the surface. 

He must have closed his eyes for a few blissful seconds, because they flew open and almost popped out of his head when Timmy climbed into his lap, straddled his thighs and placed his hands on Armie’s hips. He was still wearing the bright green underwear and Armie thought the color looked amazing on him, even though they were now soaking wet in the front. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, not even when Timmy leaned closer and pressed their foreheads together. It was only when the tip of Timmy’s nose trailed over the arch of his top lip that he finally tore his eyes away and looked up at his friend.

“Armie,” Timmy whispered, moving closer until their breaths mingled. “I… Armie, I…”

“What?” Armie asked quietly, speeding up the pace of his hand. He flicked his wrist at the tip and thumbed his wet slit. His knuckles grazed Timmy’s covered cock, already stirring again and he had to bite on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from whimpering pathetically. “Timmy, what?” he repeated, feeling the first tingles in his balls.

Timmy took one hand off his hip and brought it up to cup his face. He searched his eyes for a second and then finished his sentence. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck!” Armie shouted, his orgasm hitting him like a hurricane. Thick ropes of cum splattered the front of his shirt and the insides of Timmy’s thighs. His free hand grabbed onto Timmy’s hip and he held the boy steady in his lap as he shuddered through strong waves of pleasure, until he had nothing left to give and his cock softened in his fist.

He didn’t even allow himself a moment to regain his breath, before he was reaching up with his clean hand to cup the back of Timmy’s head. “Do you mean that?” he asked, tangling his fingers into the boy’s curls.

“Yeah, I… Yeah. I love you.” Timmy’s smile was so soft and so patient, Armie wanted to kiss it right off his face and make it his. He grinned and nuzzled the tip of his nose against Timmy’s.

“I love you too,” he said, before he finally kissed him and took what he had yearned for - what he had fantasized about - for so long.

Timmy’s smile tasted even better than it looked and Armie hoped that he could make that smile appear way more often, now that Timmy was his.

**Author's Note:**

> I would really appreciate the comments, even if that means people yelling at me ♥♥


End file.
